


Red is the rose

by LadyStrange



Category: Marvel (1872), Marvel (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 1872 (Marvel), Drunk Tony Stark, Irish Ballads, Irish Steve Rogers, M/M, Sheriff Steve Rogers, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 08:00:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18545620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyStrange/pseuds/LadyStrange
Summary: “Why is he in there?”“He got into a fight with Pym on some sciency nonsense in the saloon over a game of poker.”“Why isn’t Pym in there with him?”“Because he got knocked out.”Steve let out a small huff at that and grabbed a mug, pouring himself some water and sipping it as he watched Stark singing in the cell. “I’ll keep him in there to sober up and then let him go home tomorrow, as usual.” He assured his deputy. “You can go, Bucky. It’s nearly sundown anyway.”





	Red is the rose

_**Red is the rose** _

 

Steve took off his hat as he entered the sheriff’s office, wiping his brow tiredly with his forearm and sighing heavily as he wandered over to his desk to grab some water. He stopped in his tracks as he noticed Bucky sitting there, massaging his temples with a sour expression.

Before he could ask what happened, a drunken voice came from the cell:

 

“Bundle it was stolen, in a neat locality, something crossed me mind, when I looked behind, no bundle could I find upon me stick a-wobblin’…'Quiring after the rogue, said me Connaught brogue. It wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin.”

 

Stark.

Tony Stark poorly imitating Irish accent as he laid on one of the benches and sang happily to himself. And to poor Deputy Barnes, of course.

“Why is he in there?”

“He got into a fight with Pym on some sciency nonsense in the saloon over a game of poker.”

“Why isn’t Pym in there with him?”

“Because he got knocked out.”

Steve let out a small huff at that and grabbed a mug, pouring himself some water and sipping it as he watched Stark singing. “I’ll keep him in there to sober up and then let him go home tomorrow, as usual.” He assured his deputy. “You can go, Bucky. It’s nearly sundown anyway.”

“A full hour away.”

“It’s a calm day, for once. Let us enjoy it.”

 

Steve grabbed one of the spare mugs then and poured some water, bringing it over to the cell and lightly tapping the metal mug against the bars. “Enough of that.” He ordered in a stern but amused tone. It was no news that he had a soft spot for Stark and his ways. “Come refresh ya’self after that concert.” He invited, tuning up the Irish inflections in his words for the blacksmith’s amusement.

Tony sat up, smiling brightly up at him and standing, stumbling over to the bars and grabbing the mug from his hands, looking inside with a raised brow.

“No whiskey?”

“Nope.”

“Not even a drop of beer, my…what kind of Irishman are you, Rogers?”

“The sober kind.”

Stark sipped the water and grinned up at the sheriff, leaning some against the bars. “Say, is there really something like that? Sober Irish people?”

“Aye.” Steve replied in a whisper. “But mostly the lasses and children.” He winked, leaving Stark to laugh as he returned to the cot and laid back down, switching tune to one about booze:

 

“I've been a wild rover for many's the year, and I've spent all me money on whiskey and beer, but now I'm returning with gold in great store, and I never will play the wild rover no more.

And it's no, nay, never. No, nay, never no more, will I play the wild rover. No, never no more…”

 

Steve wandered over to the deputy, pulling a chair and sitting down there beside Bucky, lifting his feet up on the edge of the windowsill, continuing to sip his water as he moved his head in time with Starks’ voice.

“…you enjoy this.”

Bucky accused, turning to him and raising a finger to poke his shoulder. “You’re always chirpy when we keep him here for the night.”

“I like having company.”

“Stark? Company?”

“He’s not bad when he’s sober. You can even hold an entire conversation with him.”

Bucky snorted and turned to look at their ‘prisoner’ before he ran a hand through his hair.

“You’re a queer man, Rogers.”

“Been told.”

Steve raised his mug in a fake toast to his friend’s words before nodding to the outside. “Go home to your wife, James.” He said. “That’s an order.” He added playfully.

 

Bucky smiled and started to get up before he stopped. “You sure you don’t need me here?” He asked. “What about supper?”

“You like beans, Stark?” Rogers called loudly.

“Aye, Sheriff!” Tony answered, getting up and saluting over to them.

Steve shrugged. “We’ll be fine.”

Bucky sighed a little, undecided. “Natasha would like it if I could go home early for once. She’s been complaining about my work.” He admitted.

 

“Where are the eyes that looked so mild? Hurroo Hurroo .Where are the eyes that looked so mild? Hurroo Hurroo. Where are the eyes that looked so mild? When my poor heart you first beguiled, why did ye run from me and the child? Johnny I hardly knew ye--”

 

“Stark!” Bucky scolded loudly. “How the hell do you know all these Irish songs?”

Tony grinned.

“I had a gorgeous Irish lover once.” He said, moving to the bars and reaching out his mug for Steve, who got up and grabbed the bottle. “Sometimes I couldn’t sleep, I’d remember bad things or have bad dreams, and my sweetheart would stroke my hair and sing me to sleep.” He continued, smiling up at Steve some.

“Sounds lovely. What’s her name?” Bucky asked.

“Mh, don’t remember the name. I only remember the blue eyes and those fiery red hair.”

“Like Mrs Barnes?”

“Nay, Deputy. My sweetheart had red hair but was not a redhead.” Tony smirked. “Talking ‘bout lower.”

“Enough.”

Steve interrupted, giving Stark a stern look while Bucky started laughing loudly.

“Have a good night, Stark. Steve.” The deputy tipped his hat to them before he walked out.

 

“You gonna get me that water, Sheriff?” Stark asked, wriggling his mug in front of the other.

Steve smirked, moving to almost pour the water before pulling it back and taking a long sip from it himself.

“You wouldn’t be thirsty if you stopped talking. And singing.” He chided, holding the bottle just out of reach from the cell and smiling. “I’m gonna go upstairs to get supper.”

 

“But come ye back when summer's in the meadow. Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow. And I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow. Oh, Danny boy, oh, Danny boy, I love you so!”

 

Steve moved the bottle back to where Stark could get it and left him there to sing as he got upstairs to get supper started and change into cleaner clothes, knowing he would be spending the night in the Sheriff’s office to keep company to his prisoner. He never liked leaving them alone, especially if it was just Tony pulling one of his drunken stunts.

***

 

“Looking good, Sheriff. Red brings out your freckles.” Stark called as Steve walked back down in much more comfortable clothes, his star still pinned to the chest, carrying two plates.

“Thank you, Stark. How ya doin’ in there?” He asked, setting the plates on the desk before grabbing the keys from the wall and unlocking the cell, nodding at him to get out and pulling two chairs over to the desk.

“I sobered up in worse places.”

“I’m sure you did, lad.” Steve chuckled, grabbing a small oil lamp and placing it beside their plates after moving the important papers into one of the drawers. “Better?”

“Mh, love me a romantic dinner with candles.” Tony hummed, smiling as he started to eat.

The two of them chatted quietly about the latest news in town, sharing stories of their day, enjoying the meal even with constant reminder from Stark about how it would have been much better with wine.

Once the plates were empty and the sun was completely down, Steve got up and closed up the windows and the door carefully, knowing if he were needed people would use the bell hanging from the door outside.

“Am I allowed to come upstairs tonight?”

“Are you here as my friend or as my work, Stark?”

“Work.”

“Then no upstairs, I don’t bring criminals into my home.” Steve said, grabbing a blanket and a pillow and handing them to Tony as he walked back into his cell. He then grabbed another blanket and the lamp and followed the pouting man inside the cell.

***

 

Half-naked and sated, Steve laid on the cot in the small cell, Tony’s head resting on his chest, drawing circles with his fingers on his abdomen, playing with the curly trail that from his navel disappeared under his pants. “How are you so blond up there and so red down here?” He asked with a chuckle.

“How is that something you want to mention to my Deputy?”

“Please.” Tony snorted. “Barnes’ smart but not that smart. No one would ever think you’re the kind of lad to bring another lad into his bed.” He teased, pressing a kiss on a small bruise on his side. Steve was always bruised, scratched or cut somehow. Whether it was from helping someone to carry something heavy or from ending up in a fight with bad people threatening Timely. Tony had to worry about his safety all day, every day. Steve was way too good for this town, way too righteous for a shithole like this, a shithole filled with cowards and scum. Or in Tony’s cases. Both.

 

Steve’s fingers moved to caress his hair slowly and massage his scalp. “What are you thinking, my love?” He whispered, the words making warmth spread into Tony’s chest.

“That you’re so good, and yet you’re with me.”

“How do you always get so sad when you’re sober, Tony?”

“Because my brain works better.”

“Then you give me the answer.” Steve replied then, his tone soft. “Why would Sheriff Rogers defy the law of man and the law of God to spend his nights in the arms of a one Tony Stark?”

Tony huffed, leaning up on his elbow to steal a long kiss. “Because you love me. More than you love that shiny star on your chest, even.” He said.

“Even more than that.” Steve agreed, smiling up at him. “Even more than that shiny cross around my neck.”

“Why do you love me, though.” Tony muttered. “That is a mystery, even to me.”

Steve leaned down to kiss him again, moving his hand to Tony’s bare back, caressing down his spine. “Because I just do.” He shrugged. “Because I don’t know how to live without loving you.”

A small snort. “Why do you bother teaching me love songs when you could write better ballads yourself, Rogers?”

“Ah…because I love the way you sing them, dear.” Steve smirked. “And because I love the way people react to your awful Irish accent.” He added.

Tony hummed, curling closer and pulling the blankets tighter around them. “Yet you’ve a better voice than me.”

“I sure do.” Steve said. “And no one will ever believe your drunken ass.” He added playfully, making both of them chuckle.

Tony yawned and laid back down, closing his eyes, a small smile on his lips as Steve started playing with his hair once more, his heartbeat strong and steady, his deep voice lulling him to sleep.

 

“'Twas down by Killarney's green woods that we strayed, when the moon and the stars they were shining.

The moon shone its rays on her locks of golden hair, and she swore she'd be my love forever…Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows, fair is the lily of the valley, clear is the water that flows from the Boyne. But my love is fairer than any.”

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt "Oh Danny Boy" in the 'Tic Tac Stony'
> 
> The songs Tony sings are, in order: 
> 
> -Rocky road to Dublin  
> -The Wild Rover (no nay never)  
> -Johnny I hardly knew 'ye  
> -Oh Danny boy  
> -Red is the rose
> 
> ((English is not my first language, feedback is very appreciated!))


End file.
